Dominant Genes
by MisterGray
Summary: Snake and Meryl, together in another cliche...I'll make it depressing, though. Completed, as of 5-6-03.
1. Chapter 1

(Typical disclaimer here. I do not own Metal Gear Solid or any affiliated characters, nor am I making profit off of this sad excuse for fiction of the fan variety. There's some errors here and there, fellow MGS fans, please disregard those.as well as the existence of MGS2. Assume this is before that, or something. I know it seems all happy-dappy in the beginning. It'll get depressing, I'll see to it.)  
  
Be It Ever So Humble, There's No Place Like Home  
Shadow Moses, a name that would live in infamy among the military brass. Solid Snake, a man who was officially dead. Meryl Silverburg, the woman who died alongside him when their jeep had careened off a glacier and into sub-zero waters below. Or so the official report dictated, that is.  
  
"Dammit Dave, we have glasses for this sort of thing! That's the third time this week, and it's getting gross!" A feminine but certainly angered shout made its way down the tiny hall, into the living room, past the TV, and right to the sofa where 'David Smithson' was taking a brief catnap. Even the most battle-hardened soldiers can't manage to sleep through a woman scorned, the man once known as Solid Snake being no exception. "For chrissakes, not again." His gravelly voice more or less mumbled as the man sat upright. This was quelled instantly by a rather heavy sort of presence immediately felt on the man's chest, forcing a gutteral "Oof!" from Dave's lungs.  
  
Blinking only to find that a large, grayish-white sort of dog had found its way onto his chest and was now sitting upright, the man only grimaced and placed a palm over his eyes. "Dammit Fubar, not now. Down, mutt." Ears drooping upon recognizing the familiar command, delivered in the voice molded by countless cigarettes, the half-wolf promptly removed itself and headed elsewhere. The dog, affectionately named by the resident couple for his behavioral pattern, seemed to have a knack on sneaking up and pouncing upon the man who bested countless perils.  
  
Meryl meanwhile, simply stared at the crusted-over brown stains on the opening of the near-full milk carton she held in her hands. "And you've been eating my chocolates, too. Ech. Now I'm gonna have to toss this out." Her field of vision found its way over to the man in the doorway, her unofficial husband and lover, currently clad in a dirty white undershirt and boxers that could double for shorts and rather desperately needed a vigorous washing. Blinking, both tired and undaunted, the figure simply fumbled around for the light switch, and with a simple flick of his wrist, illuminated the small kitchen.  
  
"Meryl." His tired and certainly gruff voice began, "It's six in the fucking morning. Not seven, not eight, but six. I think this crisis can wait just a little longer, maybe three or four hours? I'm sure NORAD can wait for your report on the situation . . ." Performing a lazy about-face movement and minutely flailing his arms to keep decent balance while doing so, he was about to make a beeline for the warm couch when an icy voice kept him frozen to his spot.  
  
"No Dave, you're going to come over here. Right now." Unyielding to her partner's apparent grogginess, the young woman dressed in a plain white cotton robe and undergarments merely tapped her slippered left foot on the floor. There was a wry sort of smile spreading across attractive features, the sort that made the man once called Snake fear for his life.  
  
With a twitch, our hero reluctantly obliged the command and turned right back around again. He fumbled his way over the dog's food bowl, around a table, over a chair or two, and eventually stopped when he felt his chest had run into the slender woman's outstretched left palm. Looking up, he found only a chart of nutrition facts and something about 2% fat, both printed on white cardboard, shoved in his face. "See this? This is what I don't quite understand. You can sneak around like a ghost, kill a man in seconds with your bare hands, stash a body where it'll never be found . . . " Several more examples where stated whilst Snake played the connect-the- dots game placed on the carton for youngsters in his head. Meanwhile, the woman went on. ". . . And yet you can't seem to disguise the lovely renovation to our foodstuffs you felt the need to make."  
  
Several seconds later, noticing the blank gaze of the guy she lived with, Meryl nearly went into a frenzy. "David, are you listening to a word I'm saying?!" She fiercely shouted, having no fear of waking the others who lived in the apartment complex. Snake simply blinked once more, rubbed his eyes, and half-yawned. "A dancing cow." He stated plainly. "WHAT?!" Was the response that drilled itself into his eardrums. The man slowly lifted his right and, and tapped a finger on the connect-the-dots game, "That. It's a dancing cow. I figured it out all by myself, no pencil or anything." He smiled weakly, mocking pride.  
  
Now it took Meryl atleast a few seconds to comprehend all this, the best thing she could come up with as means of a response was a girlish giggle. Granted, the entire idea of this early-bird meeting was to chastise her impromptu husband about the important use using that miraculous thing they called a 'glass', but for a trained killer he had a very pleasant side.if one lived long enough to see it. She looked up at him, clear brown eyes making no effort to hide emotion. "Dave, seriously, this is getting . . ." She began, mood having changed for the better judging by vocal tone. "Mmm?" He mumbled incoherently, probably trying to say something, the act of doing so made more difficult by the fact that he was guzzling low fat milk directly from the carton. He had deftly snatched the thing while she was laughing, and promptly decided to satisfy his thirst at the risk of his own life.  
  
What followed that was a hug, which turned into a tackle, which led to the couch, which led to whoever's reading this to use their own damn imagination because I ain't writing it.  
  
And so it was a pleasant day. Just like the one before it, and the one before that, and the weeks spent together before that. Colonel Roy Campbell had, in the interest of his niece and his best friend, given them the alias last name Smithson, as well as an upstate New York apartment in a nice part of town. Ever since shadow Moses they had lived there in peace and tranquil joy, going on six weeks now.  
  
A damn shame that was all going to change very soon. 


	2. Chapter 2

(This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call 'filler material'. Skip right on by if you like, it's pretty unnecessary.)  
  
Crimson Dreams  
  
A desolate landscape lay before him; ashen wasteland so damp with blood that one could fall down and never get up again. The vast vision of hell stretched on far past the horizon, the dim sun fading away into nothingness as another dust storm rolled in. By now the corpses had become a very part of the scene itself, mountain upon mountain of dead men still clutching their weapons. The rats and maggots feasted upon these decaying human remains, ignorant to the fact that they were still being made. Gunfire could be heard ringing out from all directions at once, the earsplitting crack of rifles being fired; deafening 155mm HE shells falling from the heavens to collide with the ground below and obliterate any unlucky enough to be in their path. Even the striking of metal against metal could be heard, as the combat between two unknown sides had become so close that hand-to-hand fighting was a must. Trench spades erupted sparks, earth, or blood depending on what they hit.  
  
It was horrible. It was gory. It was hell. But it was somehow familiar.  
  
Snake darted his eyes all about, viewing the terrifying scene with grim acknowledgement and allowing the cacophonous dying symphony to fall upon his ears. He made a futile attempt to move, dive for shelter, even hit the ground and hope for the best, but he simply could not. It was as if his entire body was little more than a statue, a bag of flesh for both sides to fire at. Yet not a single shell even so much as grazed him, nor did the tide of chlorine gas rolling in even faze him. It seemed to be so real, and yet it just wasn't. Couldn't be.  
  
From Snake's left a half-uniformed young man of about seventeen dashed by, holding a shoddy AK variation caked with mud. His pants where a dirtied khaki, his shirt plain white with large patch of dried blood near the chest and throat area, his boot-clad legs were obviously straining to take the fellow as far away from the grim scene as they could. From his open mouth howled a horrified shriek, a shrill cry of absolute terror that could be heard even over the din of the fighting. His legs pumped as hard as they could, taking him away from the battle, away from the noise, away from the dead people and the dead land. He stumbled slightly, and a crimson spray accompanied by no less than ten ragged chunks of flesh exploded forth from the young man's head, bone and sickly gray cranial matter splattering onto the ground below as he dropped to his knees and fell over from there. The cry was abruptly cut off, and swarthy boy simply lay there, eyes still open for the flies to feast upon, dead.  
  
Snake somewhat winced to himself, that was something even he didn't much like to see. Standing among the chaos, he begged himself to wake up from this nightmare and return to the peace and quiet of the bed he shared with Meryl. It felt as if things were coming to a close however, as the very land began to fade away into a white void. The people, both dead and living, dying and killing, crumbled away and evaporated into the approaching nothingness without delay. As the silencing light rushed forth at him, gaining speed exponentially with each passing moment- each of which seemed like an eternity, Snake simply waited to embrace the peace. It was all he could think about doing, all he really wanted to accomplish.  
  
It was then that the last figure appeared.  
  
Nonchalantly walking towards Snake, an air of unrivaled pride and accomplishment about the silhouette, 'he' stepped forth from the light, features gradually coming into being.  
  
First came the body, an obviously physically-able structure clad in a muddy brown trenchcoat that remained open and billowed behind the figure as he strode on. Beneath this was a suit of all things, a sort of blue-gray military garb with black dress shoes beneath. A tie was worn under this, mostly hidden from view, with a white collared shirt of some sort beneath that. It was then that Snake noticed a familiar insignia upon the right shoulder of the open coat.FOX-HOUND. Without a shadow of a doubt, this was the familiar logo associated with Snake's former organization.  
  
And when the face came into view, there was no mistaking his suspicions. The man had a beard and gray hair that was slicked back somewhat lazily, and a menacing glare in his left eye that left even Snake in awe. This look that commanded immense respect and fear, the look of the one true leader of FOX-HOUND, verified by the eye patch on his right side.  
  
The one, the only, Salidus.known to most as Big Boss. The legend himself, in the center of the surreality.  
  
"My legacy," began a gruff voice that seemed pleased in a threatening sort of manner, "lives on." Chuckling to himself as if he was in on a joke the entire world had somehow missed, the figure faded from existence and the dreamscape with him.  
  
Dave's eyes bolted open, only to find darkness and a ceiling. Shrugging it off, but certainly not out of mind, he shut his eyelids and returned to his rest. 


	3. Chapter 3

(Okay, here's about when the so-called "story" can actually start. I think.)  
  
Revelations  
  
Snake woke up once more, only some two hours after coming to in cold sweat from that horrid excuse for a dream he was immersed in. Still shaking off the last bits and pieces of the round tearing through the young man's head, his process of doing so was abruptly cut off by the fact that some dim light was in his eye. Rolling to the left to see what it could be, he was slightly perplexed to find that Meryl was not indeed at his side. As the blurred vision before him faded into his typical surroundings, he found that the bathroom door was ajar, a crack of yellowish light spilling out, across the floor, and directly into his eyes. The odd part however, was the sound coming with it. Gagging coughs here and there, something falling into water. Vomiting. Meryl was vomiting. Snake simply shrugged to himself; not the first time that happened. She'd been doing it quite a bit lately, nothing new. Maybe a cold or something, or perhaps the stir-fry chicken just wasn't cooked enough. Rolling over to avoid the light, he closed his eyes and shut out all else but peaceful rest for the second time that night.  
  
Awaken for the third time within a twenty-four hour period by being vigorously shaken by delicate -but certainly not frail or weak- hands. Mumbling various incoherent curses to nothing in particular, Snake opened his eyes, and lurched himself into an upright sit on the bed. "Dave," began the pleasantly familiar voice, "We need to talk, now." Thinking to himself for a few moments, the best reply the groggy Snake could come up with was "Mrph."  
  
This was in turn greeted by more shaking. "Dammit, wake up already. This is serious!" Snake simply snapped his eyes open, bloodshot orbs that denoted lack of sleep glaring at the woman in a more-than-slightly perturbed sort of way. "I'm up." He stated with an annoyed sort of tone, which matched the look rather well.  
  
She removed her hands from the man's shoulders and folded her arms loosely beneath her breasts. Currently wearing a tank top and casual lingerie, she certainly didn't have the attire to deliver a serious lecture by the looks of it. "I think . . .uhm . . .I think . . .I'm pretty sure, that is to say, I mean . . ." Her bumbling attempt at speech was cut off by Snake, who was speaking in nothing short of a growl. "Get to the point." Shrugging as she simply decided to be blunt, the young woman sighed before resuming speech. "I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant. I've already scheduled an appointment to make sure."  
  
Taken aback, but certainly not allowing this to be seen, Snake did something between sneering and scoffing. "What?" Not as if he meant to sound contemptuous, but he somewhat did. Meryl stammered a reply, "I-I . . .well, it would explain the vomiting and the nausea and the-" Cut off again by a significantly more level-headed voice. "Crankiness?" She nodded apprehensively, resuming speech "Yeah, I guess that too." A pause. "That's it? I thought you'd be more.surprised."  
  
At this point, Snake merely shrugged. "I guess I am.I'm just not the type of guy who shows shock very well. You know that. What happens, happens. And this is just one of those things. We'll see if you're right or not soon, I suppose." With that, the man simply closed his eyes until he heard the footsteps leave the area. But he couldn't get back to sleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

(Hello again. Author here. Nobody's reading this, and yet I write anyways. Sigh. Moving on, let's advance the story some.)  
  
Divide and Conquer  
  
And so it was confirmed. According to the doctor, Meryl 'Smithson' was without a doubt pregnant. Further testing would be required to find out the sex of the child and other such things, but that could all wait. It was only about a month into the process however, and so there was plenty of time to think of the future and what it could hold.  
  
Yet Snake certainly begged to differ. Here he was, suddenly having this shit sprung upon him right out of the blue. Moreover, he didn't know quite what to feel. Anger, for not being told sooner, joy for the fact that he was to be a father...he didn't have the faintest idea. Rather, every emotion he could possibly comprehend, and a great deal that he couldn't, were mixing up within him. What resulted was a man torn apart, wrought with inner turmoil to the point where his external shell was little more than a glacial wall of indifference to the world around. A cold, icy husk of a man with eyes so empty they were little more than circular voids. Complete and total apathy . . . the old Solid Snake, in mind and body.  
  
Meryl had taken none too kindly to this, and responded by shutting herself out of her unofficial husband's life in turn. It was a cycle of iciness, where one's indifference simply fueled that of the other.  
  
For days they were like this, simply waking up, going about their business whilst subtly avoiding the other, and sleeping in separate places. The couch for Snake, Meryl remained in the bed. Nothing was shared except for food, which was even eaten at different times just to avoid seeing the other. Their own little cold war, both more afraid of blinking first than of what would happen if this kept up.  
  
Snake simply sat on the couch, and glanced over to the digital clock's bright red numbers. Nearly three AM. A sigh to himself, followed by placing his forehead into his hands. This just wasn't right. He and Meryl had been through hell, and yet some bad . . . no, not even bad news simply splits them down the middle like butter. Something had to be done, but what? He couldn't simply up and apologize, he wasn't at fault here. He didn't even recall entirely too much sex with Meryl, let alone unprotected sex. It was impossible, but then- he shook the thought out of his mind, deciding to pay more heed to it at a later date. Perking up slightly as an idea crossed his mind, Snake got up, and made for the phone.  
  
Meryl meanwhile, was doing likewise at, as it happened to be, quite near the exact same time. Four AM, or so the calendar clock by the bedside seemed to think. As she lay in bed, eyes focused on the darkness that was the ceiling, she stretched her arms out to both sides and let out a depressed sigh. She wanted to be with Dave, and knew he wanted the same thing- but yet she couldn't just give up, certainly not. She was a fighter, and would stare him down into submission. Show him who's running the stage, so to say. She patted her abdomen, and soon afterwards moved on to drumming her fingers along it. There MUST be a way to get this over with, yet not lose the silent contest. Then it hit her. Grinning at how clever she was, the scantily-clad woman slid out of her bed and made for the nearest phone. 


	5. Chapter 5

(Hi again, readers -all one of you!-, your worthless excuse for an author here. Obviously, the outline/premise for this hasn't translated well into a story . . . feh. Read on, but you're wasting your time. Really. Stop reading this.)  
  
Giddiness and Such  
  
A rough voice, something like sandpaper in fact, could be heard on one Roy Campbell's end of the phone. "Roy?"  
  
Tired, as it was far too early for this shit, not to mention he thought his old friend had the least bit of common sense in him, the half-dressed retiree somewhat mumbled his response. "Snake? What the hell?"  
  
It sounded almost urgent by the voice, yet eager in an odd way. "I have a favor to ask of you, Roy. It's important."  
  
With a sigh, Campbell paused and then spoke. "Alright, shoot. Fill me in on the situation here."  
  
A long, uncomfortable sort of pause followed. "It's about Meryl."  
  
This immediately roused the ex-Colonel's attention, which showed in his voice. "What? Is she okay? What's wrong?!"  
  
A chuckle from Snake. "Nothing, nothing. It's good news, just with a few . . . kinks to work out. Hence my calling."  
  
A relieved sigh could be heard from Campbell's end of the conversation. "Alright, so what about Meryl? I thought you two had set up a nice little niche for yourselves in New York."  
  
"We did. But she's uh," Yet another pause.  
  
"She's what?" Campbell somewhat demanded, losing patience with all the hesitation going on.  
  
"Pregnant." Snake managed to keep a cool voice, but was quite reluctant to just spit it out like that.  
  
Campbell felt as if he had been hit by a train. It's not as if he had ruled the possibility out, the chemistry between his friend and his niece was as plain as staring at the sun, but still- so soon? Shadow Moses was only a little over a month behind them! Before he could manage to get anything out, Snake continued.  
  
"She's uh, healthy and all that, but the news seems to have shut her off from the outside world or something. Anyways, I was just kind of contemplating the prospect of you getting over here at some point, maybe helping me out a bit- this ain't easy, you know."  
  
Campbell reluctantly nodded, which served no purpose as he was on the phone, and began to speak. "Okay, I think I can arrange that at some point- maybe in a week or two, I'm sure I could get a free flight through some old ties of mine."  
  
Snake chuckled once again. "Penny pinching bastard. Alright, I'm going to catch up on some shuteye. I'll see you when I see you, I guess. You already have our address, so uh . . . yeah." Never having been an expert conversationalist, Snake abruptly hung up.  
  
"God damn it," Campbell muttered into the dialtone, "There better be a damn fine explantion for all this . . ." 


	6. Chapter 6

(A pointless alternate version of the last chapter, this time from Meryl's viewpoint. I'm thinking of ways to wrap this story up as quickly as possible, fear not.)  
  
Giddiness and Such (Part Two)  
Dr. Hal Emmerich fumbled around his bedside drawer in the darkness, having been blasted awake by the not-quite-pleasant ringing of the telephone that happened to be directly next to his left ear. He finally struck home and picked up the telephone, grumbling a disoriented "Huh-" into the phone.  
  
"Hal Emmerich?" Inquired a feminine voice, one that sounded oddly familiar.  
  
"Uh, yes, that's me . . ." Began Otacon, gathering his bearings.  
  
"I'm Meryl, you know, from the 'incident' that three certain people were involved in directly." The voice was almost smug for a second there.  
  
"Oh! Yes, I recall now- wait, what is it that you want exactly? Has something happened?" Hal, a quick thinker, managed to hastily get the idea that there was a reason for being rung up at- he glanced at the clock, a little past four AM.  
  
"Not exactly, no, but I need to ask a favor of you . . . being Dave's good friend as you are, I figured you would be the man for the job I need." Downright pleasant-sounding now.  
  
"Huh?" Now Hal had periodic phone calls with Snake, they kept in touch, they had about three conversations since Shadow Moses- none of which were in person. All over the phone, which made little sense as they lived relatively close to one another. Hal had heard things here and there about Meryl, but not entirely too much. This too, was eerily illogical.  
  
"Well, I'll be blunt. Long story short, I'm pregnant, and I think it's had some troubling effects on Dave. I can't get through to him, so I figured . . ."  
  
Her sentence was finished by Hal. "That maybe I could?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
A pause ensued. Hal wanted to check in on his unusual friend, see how he was doing and such, and made no attempt to hide this. "Sure! I'd love to get down there!" Another slight pause. "Just don't tell him I said that, okay?"  
  
Meryl laughed, very slightly, and agreed to this. "Not a problem, Dr. Emmerich."  
  
"Please, just call me Otacon."  
  
Inquiry present in her tone, Meryl began to question this. "Otacon? I never found out why he mentioned calling you that-"  
  
Cut off by the energetic doctor. "I'll explain that another time. Anyways, I'm going to need an address from you or something, maybe a time or date would be nice. . ."  
  
Such information was quickly divulged, it was agreed that he was to make his 'random' appearance sometime in the following few days. As soon as the woman hung up, Hal somewhat realized that he had been roused at four in the morning for an invitation to what could be described more or less as a depressing baby shower. Cursing to himself slightly, he shut out the world and returned to hazy dreaming. 


	7. Chapter 7

(I know, it's all sucked so far. Still, if you've even read up until here, why stop now? For the sake of good taste, maybe . . . anyways, in the name of finishing up this shit excuse for a story, I'm going to roll out as many chapters as I can today.)  
  
Long Story Short  
As both sides had personally taken the time to account for, one Doctor Hal Emmerich arrived about a week later slightly off-schedule, and one Roy Campbell arrived soon afterwards before expected time. As luck had it, both headed out to the small apartment complex on the same day, at the same hour, and the very same minute. Meeting in the hell, the two men looked first confused, but hastily shifted to an air of mutual respect for both parties. The two shook hands heartily, and simultaneously began explaining to one another their reasons for being here. Being two men of high intelligence, they soon deducted that the entire ordeal was little more than sheer nonsense on the part of Snake as well as Meryl. They firmly agreed to talk some sense into both of them, and that was that.  
  
Speak of the devil, Meryl herself was currently making preparations for the guest the expected to arrive soon- that is to say, tossing Snake's mountain of dirty laundry into any discreet place she could find. Although their contact was minimal at best, the two still kept their normal habits . . . and cleanliness was not exactly Solid Snake's forte. She had just hurled a heap of Solid Snake's nearly solid socks into the closet when the knock she had expected was heard, and so she hastily latched the closet door shut to prevent the gargantuan pile of odor-causing laundry from becoming a landslide. "Be right there!" She shouted, as the door wasn't entirely too close to her, and made her way down the hall towards the source of the knock.  
  
Snake, on the other hand, was in their room, which had now primarily become Meryl's quarters. However, he had official business there, as the hound couldn't bear to be away from Snake for too long. He was simply scratching the hound behind its left ear, to which Fubar responded by picking up his right hind leg and beating the paw against the ground in a futile attempt to join in on the scratching. Just one of those things dogs do. It was when Dave's finely-honed senses picked up on a sound at the door, and Meryl implying that she would be answering said door that he pieced together the fact that something was indeed at the door. The hound seemed to get this as well, which he showed by barreling out of the room at hazardous speeds and barking like an idiot. Expecting a visit from Roy, albeit a bit earlier than usual, Snake shouted "I got it!" and dashed off after the dog.  
  
The two men standing outside the door, one dressed in his usual lab equipment as he was currently a rather valued member of a computer corporation and had just come from work, the other in his old military uniform for the sake of attaining a free flight (Military retirees are allowed high priority on any military flight, however they must be in uniform). The two simply waited for a few seconds as the cacophony started up inside, first a female voice, then a dog woofing like all hell, followed by a rough voice saying something not quite understandable. The door was opened seconds after all that, and the two waiting patiently allowed their eyes to survey the scene. Solid Snake, the legend himself, in clothes that badly needed washing. Meryl Silverburgh, the now-pregnant girlfriend of the legend, holding back an intimidating large dog that seemed to be having the time of its life barking up a storm at the two visitors. 


	8. Chapter 8

(Here you go. Enjoy. Or something.)  
  
Long Story Short II  
All the business was quickly sorted out, Otacon and Campbell had quickly decided to put an end to the ridiculous situation. They had more or less demanded an explanation from both sides, and the matter was quickly taken to the living room where some clothing was brushed off the couch and the two visitors took their seats. "Alright," Campbell began "You have one minute to stop the bullshit and give me a half-decent explanation of all this, Meryl." To emphasize his point, the man rolled back his sleeve and tapped the quartz of his wristwatch a few times.  
  
Knowing that her uncle was not a man who would kid around when pissed off, she quickly began her story. "Well, it's pretty easy." She started, not quelling the fact that she was blaming Snake entirely in the least, "Dave's been colder than ice since he found out the news, and that's about all there is to it." Which was pretty accurate.  
  
Otacon looked perplexed, and tossed a glance to Snake, who had taken the liberty of leaning against the wall and folding his arms loosely over his chest. "Snake, is this true?"  
  
This was answered with a nod, and all eyes were on Snake. He simply shut his eyelids and explained his response in a single word, "Yeah."  
  
Campbell cleared his throat, and began his inquiry. "Why is that, Snake? The last thing we need is you becoming another heartless monster, and it seems you've already started down the road to doing just-" Cut off by Snake's gravelly voice.  
  
"Let me get this straight, Roy. Let's cut the crap here. You expect me to become the embodiment of joy over a child . . ." He opened his eyes, and glared at Meryl. A glacial stare that simply bore twin holes right into her mind, leaving her naked, unprotected from his subtle fury. "That isn't even mine."  
  
This was met by a gasp from Otacon, who promptly glanced over towards Meryl. Campbell had almost the same reaction, and Meryl simply lowered her head and hid her face. Otacon whirled back to Snake, glaring at him sharply. His voice was far more audible, not quite yelling, but certainly making itself distinguished. "Snake, what the hell is wrong with you?! Jesus, you're making all these wild accusations towards the poor girl and-" Campbell took over, his rough tone throwing even more harsh rebuttals. "That's right! I know we're good friends, but I will not have you saying these things about my niece! What are you thinking?!"  
  
Meryl's voice was the clearest only in that it was the only one that wasn't a shout, and this distinguished it enough to shut the other two up long enough to let her voice her input. Her tone was shameful, broken, and one could distinctly hear her choking back tears. "No . . . he's right. It's not Snake's child- well, it's not . . ." Her voice became a series of mumbles, droplets of salty water running down her face whilst she tried time and again to get the words out. Giving up, the poor woman simply dashed out of the room before any could react, and about half a second later the lock to her room's door could be heard clicking.  
  
The two enraged glares turned to Snake. 


	9. Liquid Is Your God

(Finally, I can start getting to the good parts. Let's sit back and enjoy the embodiment of kickass that is known as Liquid Snake, shall we? Oh yes, see if you can find the hidden Clockwork Orange quote in here.)  
  
Obsession Games  
Cold. That's all she felt. Cold metal, binding her wrists and her ankles to even more cold metal. An upright alloy bed of sorts, one from which there was no escape unless her captors released her intentionally. A cluster of bright lights blared down in her face, making her squint to the point where sight was no longer useful. Flickering remnants of searing pain ripped through her nerves, mere sparks compared to the excruciating storm of electrical energies that had rushed through her system just seconds ago. The torture wheel reclined, exposing her even more to the intense halogen beams that made her eyes suffer.  
  
Senses recovering rapidly, she overheard a now-familiar voice. That of the interrogator, and if things became worse, most likely the executioner. A gruff tone, one signifying both age and an odd sort of smug confidence. That of the member of FOXHOUND called only "Revolver Ocelot", a deadly man who, judging by his tone, was having the time of his life by using Meryl's body as a chamber for intense electrical currents. "She still won't say a word, boss. Keeps calling for Snake, not much else. Little slut's tough, I'll give her that much. What do you want me to do?"  
  
And then she heard it, for the very first time. A new voice, but one that had her fearing from the first syllable that it created. The tone in of itself was fearsome, in a subtle sort of way. Cocky, arrogant- but without a doubt capable. As if the man was in on a joke the entire world didn't understand, with a slight British sort of accent to it. Yet there was something more buried beneath this, something far worse. Traces of spite, immense, unfathomable amounts of raw spite that drove the man to do what he was doing right now. Yes, there was no doubt in Meryl's mind that this man was THE Liquid Snake. "Giving up already? Ocelot, you surprise me. We're going to have to take our gloves off here, and that's going to call for us getting our hands dirty." Smug, but knowing- and in control. She went so far as to almost instantly classify the man as downright evil.  
  
Ocelot's voice began again as the hazy white that had overcome Meryl's sight thanks to the intense lighting fixture continued to stir around and around, as if her field of vision was a pool of water being stirred gently. ". . . I see." The aging gunslinger cleared his throat. "Shall I leave you two alone, then?" The implication already had her worried, although in her current state, her mind's activity was minimal at best.  
  
Liquid nodded as a sly sort of cynical grin gradually grew over his features, none of which was known to Meryl. "See to it that you do. I may not have as much torture room experience as you, but I'm sure I'll come up with something . . ."  
  
Ocelot merely shrugged, with an accompanying nod. "So be it, then. I don't suppose she has too much vital information anyways, though . . ." A tinge of reluctance was in his voice, a rare thing indeed.  
  
Liquid simply laughed at this, the very echoes of hell emanating forth from the man's throat. Genuinely amused, he allowed himself to enjoy the humor of the moment for a few seconds before resuming speech. "Does it matter? She's just another plaything for me to indulge in for a short while, little more than a toy to be used until it is broken." He paused, and Meryl heard no less than four footsteps reverberating off of the metallic tiles of the floor, coming towards her. She could feel the last one vibrating within her inner ear, so close was the unseen terror. "Besides, this captive butterfly belongs to none other than that utterly . . ." She could hear him grinding his teeth as he spoke, frightening amounts of sheer hatred fueling his words, "disgusting brother of mine. I'm going to take away all the things he loves one by one and shatter them," His voice clearly shifted towards Meryl, both speaking to and regarding her simultaneously. "Starting with you."  
  
Ocelot said no more, his footsteps could be heard leaving the place, verified by the familiar smooth sliding of the sliding security door she had heard several times before. Now he was speaking exclusively to her. "Well then, you delicate little flower you, what ever shall we do to pass the time . . .?" She had never felt so absolutely terrified as she did now, the suspense was making her view death as an act of mercy.  
  
Still, the durable woman pressed on, having gathered her bearings by now. She opened her eyes fully now, finding that the lights seemed to have been dimmed. The table made a grinding noise, and within seconds she found herself upright again- and staring directly into the face of the man behind the entire Shadow Moses incident. Liquid Snake. His hair was long, and his face was a mirror image of Solid Snake. The rest of his form seemed to be covered by a long, mud-brown trenchcoat, no details were available. "Y-you look," She sputtered, "Just like-" Her sentence was cut off abruptly by a sharp blow to her abdomen, possibly the hardest she'd ever been punched. Before she could take the time to even comprehend the rush of guttural pain, another brutal follow-up barrage of four knuckles was delivered to almost directly beneath her breasts, a near-lethal slamming of force on her solar plexus.  
  
As all this caught up to her she tried to cry out in pain, but she found that not only had the wind been knocked out of her, but there was another preventing factor. Namely, the back of Liquid's hand- and four familiar knuckles as well, had smashed without mercy into her right cheek. Had it not been for the fact that her head was bound, it would have been jerking to the side violently. Although typically she couldn't hear much after all that, the enraged screams of one Liquid Snake were enough to raise the dead. "Shut up! Never compare me to that thieving abomination! EVER!" A fierce three-second electroshock followed, which seemed to relieve a great deal of Liquid's apparent stress.  
  
Meryl meanwhile, was vomiting- or trying to, but she had not eaten anything for quite some time, and dry-heaving was all she could do. Gagging nothingness as she shed tears of sheer suffering, the woman simply cried and coughed. From this Liquid had a good chuckle or two, and could be heard pacing back and forth. His steps echoed countless times, or so her re- disoriented senses seemed to convey. "But enough prattle about," He cushioned the rage as best he could, but nothing could truly hide it, "Him. Let's talk about us, hm?"  
  
Meryl simply groveled for him to stop, but this was little more than a pitiful mumble drowned in her own crying. "Oh, do shut up." He snidely silenced her with this, as her vision was still operational enough to spot the fist being raised for dramatic effect. "Now I'm going to be perfectly honest here, I really have no need for any information you may have." The pacing halted in front of her, and Liquid traced a single finger across her collarbone, then allowed it to glide gently upwards over her neck, neatly running over the milky skin as smoothly as skates over ice.  
  
It was then that the rest of his hand followed suit, allowing a gentle grip on top of the hapless young woman's throat. This quickly tightened, becoming a lethal suffocating grasp from which there was no escape. Caught in the web, Meryl simply waited for the spider to come along and finish her off. She felt yet another blow to her abdomen- harsher this time though, by far the worst pain she'd felt in recent memory, in all of her memory in fact. She tried to cough instinctively, but the grip on her neck wouldn't call for the passage of air to or from her lungs. And so here she remained, choking on her own dying gasp for atleast twenty seconds before the cruel fingers finally uncoiled themselves from her.  
  
Then the words continued, although they were beginning to fade away . . . as was her vision, and all other senses for that matter. "He took EVERYTHING from me, and now I'm going to take it all back!" Liquid merely allowed another sadistically gleeful laugh to rush forth from the inner depths of a twisted psyche, and among the din of the demon's cackling Meryl heard another noise- something hitting the floor, gently. Cloth. The trenchcoat. It had slid right off, down to the ground. Then a metal -clank- , something her battered mind and body identified as a belt buckle. More cloth falling, and then a hand removing what little clothing the girl had left.  
  
The last thing that she could hear before passing out was Liquid's insanely happy voice, cracking from tone to tone with eagerness for what he was about to have. "Time for the old in 'n' out then, eh?"  
It was then that she woke up icy-cold sweat, springing upright in her bed. A dream- a horrible, horrible dream. Then a snap of realization occurred to her, for what seemed like the millionth time. It wasn't a dream, no- it was a memory. 


	10. Chapter 10

(Alright, I got off my lazy ass. Let's move things along, then. The ending is within my grasp.)  
  
Long Story Short (Revisited)  
  
And so they all sat down in the far-from-clean living room, Snake and Meryl seated on the couch, Campbell and Otacon pacing back and forth and tossing the occasional glance to the two. More or less an interrogation session. Campbell started the show with a hesitant "Whose child is it?"  
  
Meryl, who had finally come out of hiding after a few hours of the worst sleep she'd had in weeks, peered up at her uncle through fiery locks and spoke meekly, "Snake's." Otacon immediately offered a hopeful "So it IS snake's child?" Naturally, the statement was packed with the man's inquisitive nature.  
  
Snake, who had his arms folded loosely over his chest, merely closed his eyes and waited for the answer to come to light. Granted, he could simply TELL them, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Meanwhile, Meryl simply nodded slowly at the question.  
  
"So then what, David, is the problem here?" Campbell's hoarse tone somewhat demanded of Snake. As his eyes opened slowly, Snake's icy voice cut through the pause like a razor. "Wrong Snake, Roy." He knew the implication hit home when an expression of grave shock froze over Campbell's features, and the best he could do to reply was "Oh . . ."  
  
Otacon too, had no words that would suit his current mood. Rather, he simply ceased his pacing and allowed his shoulders to somewhat droop. "I see . . ." The scientist mouthed, nothing audible managing to make it through.  
  
And so there they sat, silence encompassing the room, eyes downcast as they waited for somebody to shatter it. Too much to hope for, of course.  
  
Things eventually righted themselves, as after several minutes the Colonel gathered the courage to say a meek "I'm terribly sorry to hear that." Otacon merely showed his sympathy by nodding, and Snake placed an arm around his girlfriend. He sighed, certainly not hiding it. "Yeah, and I guess I should be the one to say it most . . . I've been really horrible to you for the past few days, and I feel just-" He cut himself off, actually stammering as his mind fought with itself over just which word to use. In a democratic vote of ninety-nine brain cells to one, he blurted out with a passion of self-loathing, "Stupid. That's how I feel. And I'm really, truly sorry for it. I love you, and we both know it, I'm sorry for hurting you like that."  
  
Snake, genuinely being apologetic. One of the things Campbell had rarely seen during his lifetime, usually Snake found some way to rectify whatever he was doing- the man could come up with an excuse for mass-murder, so hearing this from him of all people was both a shock and a relief. Mainly the latter at the moment.  
  
Meryl meanwhile, simply nodded, managed a weak but true smile, and buried herself in the man's shoulders. Not as if it was one of those movies where all's better when everyone talks it out, she had things on her mind.  
  
Namely, the matter of life or death for a certain unborn child. 


	11. Chapter 11

(Alright, I think I can wrap this up in two chapters after this. Booyah. After that, I can stop writing shit like this, because this god damn idea shall finally be purged from me friggin' head. And thank all y'all nice folks for the reviews, I like those. Give me more, damn you. I'm greedy.)  
  
No Title  
  
Well, things were returning to normal in the 'Smithson' household, namely the things concerning the union between one Solid Snake and one Meryl Silverburg. The two were as happy as could be when frantically trying to make a choice about whether to let their baby live or die. Campbell and Otacon had gone about their business and left the couple alone after the 'who's-the-real-father' incident, and promised to return when the kid was born- they had not, of course, been let in on the fact that said birth wasn't one hundred percent guaranteed.  
  
In fact, it was more like fifty, since the two were disagreeing on whether the unnamed fetus was to be purged. Not with each other, but with themselves. As new points for and against life and death popped up in their minds independently, all pros and cons somewhat neutralized each other before they could make it to even being words. It was only on a cold, gray sort of day that seemed especially gloomy that they decided to officially discuss the matter in-depth.  
  
A meeting was called on the couch, all family members summoned. By this I mean that Fubar was curled up upon the sofa, enjoying another of his numerous naps, when he was shooed off by Snake, who then sat down in the dog's place as the heater wasn't quite kicking in just yet, and leftover dog warmth was superior than literally freezing one's ass off. Meryl, still energetic as always despite her condition, more or less pounced on our hero from behind and refused to reposition; not even several lackluster "Mrph" sounds from a semi-crushed Snake were enough to do the job.  
  
Snake, taking the opportunity to talk some things over with Meryl, wriggled his way over to the left side of the woman and observed her place her hands beneath her chin; curious eyes following every minute muscle movement the man made. "I think," He started strongly but didn't quite follow up with the same tone, "We should talk a few things over." A pause, followed by a correction. "Well, not really several, just one actually. One very, very large sort of thing."  
  
"Something like this?" Meryl inquired, tapping her abdomen slightly with an unpolished fingernail- of course unpolished, the woman never could stand makeup. Another asset Snake knew and treasured. Speaking of Snake, he just plain nodded and managed to squeeze out a few words. "Well, yeah . . . I mean, what're your thoughts on, well, y'know?" Uneasy tone for an uneasy subject, he wasn't very good at hiding things from Meryl for the most part, and so he made no attempt to mask the fact that he was being as tactful as possible.  
  
She simply sighed. "I'm torn, to be honest. This is the Devil's child, but it's also my baby . . . I was really hoping maybe you had some input." Snake, having opinions of his own, voiced them on command. "Can't say I have it any clearer, it's a delicate thing. That child would be another one of Big Boss's legacy, for lack of better words . . ." He paused, carefully weighing the consequences of what he said next before saying it. "A monster."  
  
Meryl seemed hurt at first, but slowly nodded in agreement. A dying naïve sort of tone in her voice, something along the lines of bleak hope- a self- contradictory tone, but one that made clear she was slightly optimistic, even during such troubled situations. "Well, that's not necessarily true . . ." She was about to elaborate on that, when Snake couldn't help but blurt something out. "Liquid's a fiend, and that would be HIS child! You know that more than anybody!" Only after he snapped this did he realize how foolish it was, and was about to move for apology when Meryl responded.  
  
Her voice was defeated, as if that truth had utterly crushed her. Still, she stood fast with her value, clinging to the last ray of hope she could summon up. "Genetics aren't everything, Snake. You know THAT more than anybody." Meek, but capable. That's how she was, surprisingly defiant considering the circumstances. "The child is only a monster if we raise it like a monster."  
  
Snake simply kept silent for a moment, and nodded. Meanwhile, outside through the window, the clouds parted and allowed the sun's comforting rays to shine in on the two. 


	12. Chapter 12

(Finally, second to last chapter here people. It's almost over, pah-raise the lawdy lawd. As much as it contradicts myself to say this, please keep reading until the end- I know I liked the ending. Yarharhar.)  
  
Short Narrative  
  
Of course, babies were by no means cheap creatures to provide upkeep for. Certainly not, the little bastards (Literally, in this case) required all sorts of things. Food, water, shiny pieces of plastic too big to swallow but small enough to be amusing, attention, cribs, all sorts of things along those lines. And both Snake and Meryl knew it. Finances however, weren't entirely too much of a problem. As it turned out, Snake had quite some life insurance on him right before he "died" on Shadow Moses, as did Meryl- all thanks to the Colonel's quick thinking, as he knew Snake could survive most anything before the fated mission ever truly began. Meryl however, was a different story. Either way, the two were quite set for a good while as they lived modestly in a small apartment.  
  
This however, established another problem. There was no room for the child. It was decided that, until they could get around to moving elsewhere or something along those lines, the kid could hang around in their room. An annoyance without a doubt, and it would kill off half of their more intimate activities, but nonetheless they were in a pinch and it seemed the only solution. A nice place for the crib was already set up.  
  
And so, the months passed faster than most would think. Through the wonders of modern science they found that the child was to be a girl, which for some reason, made Snake quite relieved. He admitted to honestly looking forward to breaking every finger than any guy she would date in her teenage years that was laid upon her. Snake would make quite a vicious sort of overprotective parent indeed.  
  
Another problem was naming, but both decided that names were rather unimportant things when it all boiled down to it, and somewhat mutually agreed to procrastinate. Somehow, during a phone conversation with Snake in which he was being updated, Otacon managed to come up with the nickname "Fox" for the child. Snake thought it stupid at first, but somehow managed to adopt it, and Meryl soon followed. How the title sprang up in the first place is a mystery, but it did nonetheless.  
  
It was slightly after the nine month mark when it happened . . .  
  
(Of course I'm not going to just leave it at that. Next and final -and probably longest- chapter soon, biatches/readers.) 


	13. 13 is an unlucky number

(Oh, right. I had a fanfic going, huh. Forgot about that. Last installment.)  
The big day at long last. She recalled panic when her water broke, which quickly turned to determination to get to the nearest medical facility. Dave had hastily obliged, throwing on a shirt and half-carrying her out to the street, where a cab was quickly flagged down. The driver was good enough not to demand any payment.  
  
Then there were the walls. White walls, white halls, white lights all around. She was looking up at a plaster ceiling with long, bright lights in it, being rushed down the seemingly-endless corridor on some sort of gurney. At her side was a quickly-assembled team of what she assumed were doctors, nurses, and one Solid Snake. The array of voices coming at her from all sides was difficult to distinguish over the splitting abdominal pain, but she seemed to make out a few expected comments along the lines of "Take deep breaths" and "Try to relax" alongside the ever-cliched "Everything's going to be just fine." Dave said nothing.  
  
A hectic enough hour or two as it was, the three involved in the actual birth process were far worse. The painkillers helped a great deal, as expected, but nonetheless the event was excruciating at best. The woman did as she was told, taking deep breaths and the like, "pushing" when instructed to do so, and other such tasks she thought were only useful on television.  
  
All the while, Dave simply held her hand lightly, silent; possibly hopeful.  
  
It was at the end of the two-hour-and-fifty-minutes of labor that it all occurred. The baby girl came out, head first and facing up as should be, kicking and flailing its tiny limbs about. And yet, save the hum of all the doctors and nurses speaking at once, things were oddly silent. It was perhaps after about a second after this that she realized something was terribly wrong, as did the team of medical practitioners.  
  
The child was moving, but not crying. Abnormal. A quick check revealed that it was breathing, but scarcely. Erratically. Desperately. Its heart was pumping, skipping, failing; halted altogether.  
  
The thing's limbs came to a gradual halt in synchrony with the dying muscle within its newborn chest, finally falling down into listless peace within the hands of a doctor. Dead, without a shadow of a doubt. She knew it, Snake knew it, all within the room knew it.  
  
Meryl stammered out only one syllable, "F-Fox-" Before Snake's own icy, but otherwise saddened tone cut in. "Die . . ."  
  
And that's when she could hear it. Somewhere off in the distance, somewhere within the farthest pits of her mind, Liquid Snake was laughing. 


End file.
